Good Morning, Sunshine
by Jingle For Goldfish
Summary: Just a silly idea. M for adult themes. Sorry, kids.


_Nuther EE oneshot. A little abrupt. Very in media res. Make of it what you will._

_Quick background info: This takes place shortly following the main storyline. I don't have the book with me, but my guess is that it would fit within the epilogue somewhere. Maybe someday I'll write a longer EE fic. Then again, I have a habit of starting those and not finishing them, so I'm probably better off sticking with oneshots. :)_

* * *

Good Morning, Sunshine

I never asked him, but it was not difficult to guess what must have happened.

I hadn't come down for breakfast, and it was only a case of either illness or severe sleep-deprivation that had ever detained me in my room past about nine-thirty. As both of these instances warranted investigation, it should have come as very little surprise when the door to my chamber opened suddenly at ten o' clock one Friday morning, barely giving us time to separate.

Ella had the presence of mind to clutch an armful of blanket to her breast as the two of us sat bolt upright. I still held her hand under the blankets, her fingers laced between my own, warm with exertion. I felt her pulse quicken in her wrist, and her grip tightened slightly, but otherwise she didn't flinch—a reaction that served to strengthen my admiration for her. It was not easy to stand one's ground before such a man as my father.

His eyes were wide, his expression stony. We locked gazes. His eyes moved to my left—to Ella. They moved down, blinked, and moved quickly back to mine. They shut, and he drew a deep breath through his nose. The nostrils flared slightly, the significance of which I knew very well.

Eyes still closed, he spoke in a low voice, rich and powerful enough to cause a vibration in my chest. "When I return, you will be dressed and fit to present yourselves," he said shortly. Without waiting for a response—not that I would have dared to speak, anyway—he spun on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

Ella and I sat still for another moment or two. My eyes wandered to find her looking at me. Our eyes met, and she gave me a small smile. I returned it.

"I suppose we ought to make ourselves presentable," she said.

"I suppose so."

We lingered for a moment, then, "We _are_ engaged," she said. "In only a few months' time, we'll be married. What difference is a few months?"

"I doubt my father will see it that way." I paused. "_Has_ seen it that way." I swung my legs out of the bed and crossed the floor to where my tunic lay discarded in a crumpled heap. Her eyes followed me the whole way. I turned and gave her a pointed look. "You'll want to get dressed."

She nodded. Her eyes flickered downward, a smile twitched across her lips, she looked back up at me, and then she turned around to retrieve her dress.

When we were both clothed, she found a brush and began to comb out her hair. I approached her from behind and put a hand on her waist. On second thought, I drew it back again. My father hadn't said when he would return, and I thought it might not be appropriate to appear too intimate when he did.

Ella paused to grab my hand and put it back where it was. She craned her head upward. "We _are_ engaged," she reminded me. "Your father knows that. Why bother hiding it?"

I shook my head. "You don't think it might be a little… _imprudent_ to appear—"

"If he is still so innocent of our relationship to be startled by a little hand-holding, I wonder how it is that you were ever conceived."

She was brave to speak that way. "Ella, he is the _king_."

"Oh. Yes, I misspoke. If _His Royal Highness_ is still so innocent of our relationship—"

My laughter cut her off. There really was no point in trying to argue with her.

When my father returned, it was to the scene of Ella sitting at my desk, leafing through a book I had lying around, as I ran the fingers of one hand through her hair. My other hand was draped over her shoulder, almost to her heart, and she held it there as she read. We both looked up when the door opened. I tried to look contrite. I doubted Ella was doing the same.

When he entered the room, he had been about to say something, but he stopped when he saw us. He had had time to compose himself and now thankfully looked more weary than angry. He surveyed us for a moment, then huffed out a short sigh.

"Char, I would like to speak with you alone for a moment."

I nodded. Ella looked up expectantly. I groaned to myself. She was going to make him address her directly. The lass had no sense of propriety.

But her tarrying did not seem to incite my father. He only turned to her and said, "Young lady, I suggest you retire to your _own_ room."

She smiled, got to her feet, and made a wobbling curtsy. "Of course, Papa," she said as she glided out of the room.

At being addressed thusly, his eyes flashed with surprise—not anger, I was relieved to see—and he watched her go before returning his attention to me.

"An intriguing maiden you've found for yourself, Char," he said.

It was a compliment, whether he meant it so or not. "Thank you."

His face grew stern. "In the future, however, I would strongly advise you to maintain your relationship at a more platonic level. Fiancée or no, she is _not_ your wife yet, and a child born to the prince out of wedlock would create quite the stir. Don't you agree?"

I winced. "Perhaps…"

"I think so." He grew suddenly agitated. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked onto his heels. He cleared his throat. "In that vein," he said in a somewhat constricted voice, "did you—ah, that is, when you—well, were you—_inside_… of her… when—when _it_—ahem…?"

It must have taken all the blood in my upper torso rushing to my face to turn it as red as it did in such a short space of time. My legs faltered, and I grabbed the chair back for support. "_Father_."

"Well, were you?"

"_NO_," I said forcefully.

He nodded. "Ah. Good. Yes." He cleared his throat again, and he was back to normal. "I truly am glad to see you have found such a suitable partner in her, Char. I ask only that you refrain from… this sort of activity until you are securely bound by marriage. Do you understand?"

I couldn't look him in the eye. My face was still glowing. "Yes, Father," I said.

"Good. I hope we do not have to have this conversation again."

_Likewise_.

There was an awkward pause. "Come down to breakfast. I'll have Rachel put something together for you."

I nodded, and he left the room.

A moment later, Ella poked her head in the doorway, and the impish smile across her face told me she had heard the significant parts of our conversation.

"Never again," I mumbled as she entered.

She raised a finger. "Never again _in the morning_," she amended.

I started to contradict her, but I stopped myself when I realized I couldn't. She was probably right. I tossed up my hands in a gesture of resignation, and I allowed a grin to invade my expression.

"Are you hungry?"

"Ravenous."

I put my arm around her shoulders, her hand found my hip, and the two of us headed downstairs, together.


End file.
